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Authors: Deby Fredericks

Too Many Princes (59 page)

BOOK: Too Many Princes
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THE TRUE GOLD OF CRUTHAM

 

Despite her resolution, Therula didn't attend court, but it wasn't because she feared the stranger Oskar had become. Rather, she sought out her half-sisters and their mothers, hoping to learn what they knew about it. Without raising any questions about herself, of course. She did this by feigning a deep concern for Oskar.


Rulership must be such a burden, at a time like this,

Therula sighed, over and over, for most of the day.

She learned nothing relevant except that Leoda's mother, Jenne, a seamstress, had made the first Silletsian hat Oskar wore. Eben had ordered it from Jenne two days before the coronation. Jenne grumbled that she had had to stop working on Leoda's coronation gown and make the hat instead. Now Eben had left, and she hadn't even been paid for the work.

Therula returned to her own apartment, puzzling over this morsel of information. Eben had always helped protect Crutham. It seemed unthinkable, but could his absence be a defection?

A knock came at the chamber door. Cliodora burst in without waiting for permission. The younger princess was pink-cheeked, panting.


Sister, sister!

Cliodora squealed.

They're back! Brastigan is back!

Therula managed a weak,

Oh.

If Brastigan was here, then Pikarus had returned as well.

Cliodora didn't seem to notice Therula's reaction. She was too busy bouncing on her toes.

Will he come to see us?

the girl asked eagerly.

Oh, I can't wait.


Of course he will,

Therula said, more primly than she intended. How she longed to have feelings as uncomplicated as Cliodora's!

Stop your dancing. I need you to do something for me.


Go find Brastigan?

Cliodora demanded happily.

Therula hugged the girl to conceal her annoyance.

Later,

she said.

First, find Pikarus. Say that I must see him immediately.

Cliodora's mouth made an O and then she giggled.

Pikarus?


Yes, Pikarus,

Therula answered irritably.

Before he reports to Oskar or Garican or anyone else, he
must
speak to me. Understand?


Yes!

Cliodora squeaked. Therula realized she was squeezing her little sister's shoulders with a fierce grip.


I'm sorry.

Therula hugged Cliodora again, trying to mean what she said.

This is terribly important. You must tell Pikarus exactly what I said. And don't let anyone stop you. Remember, you're a princess, too.

Cliodora's shoulders hunched. Her young face grew shadowed.

No, I'm not. Not any more,

she whispered.


Don't say that!

Therula exclaimed. She let go of Cliodora's shoulders so she wouldn't shake the girl.

It isn't true. You are the daughter of a king.


But he's dead!

Cliodora wailed suddenly.

Papa's dead, sister. Everyone looks at us differently now. All the courtiers sniff, and some of the servants ignore us. Orlyse and Frella and Leoda—we all think so.


Who are the servants to decide?

Therula retorted. She hated to admit, even for a moment, that Bettonie's haughty attitude might prevail.

It's not all about them, apple blossom. It's about you, too. This is your birthright. You mustn't let anyone take it from you.

Cliodora straightened her back and summoned a wobbly smile. She lifted her chin and marched out the door with the intensity of a soldier going to battle.

When she had gone, Therula let her knees go soft. She sank into her chair and stared at the burned out ashes in the fireplace. Cliodora's fragile smile tore at her heart. What must it feel like, to be so afraid and so young? Therula had to acknowledge their situations were very different. No one was going to repudiate Therula, a full sibling to the reigning king. But Cliodora? Oh, the poor girl was so young to be facing such things!

Yet Therula had her own fears. The mere mention of Pikarus's name made her feel as if she had eaten something horrible. She could neither swallow it nor spit it out. Of course she was glad to know he was safe, but guilt tarnished her joy. How could she tell him what she had done? She knew she couldn't hide it. Oskar would make certain of that.

She had summoned Pikarus to her, but she had no idea what she would tell him. The waiting dragged at her, a crushing weight on her heart. It seemed hours since Cliodora left her chambers. Therula told herself not to be silly. It took time to carry a message across a castle as large as Crutham Keep. But soon the passing minutes told her it really had been a long time.

Therula jumped up from her chair, pacing the room. Her own anxiety mocked her. What if Cliodora was too late? Oskar could be questioning Pikarus even now, taunting him with her lack of faith in him. What would he think of her?

The door latch rattled. Therula froze, her fingers tied in a nervous knot before her. She wrenched them apart, held her hands at her sides... But it was only Cliodora who slipped through the door.


I gave him your message,

Cliodora hurried to say,

but I had to wait to see him. Two of the men didn't come back. Pikarus was talking to their families.

Her voice trailed off on the mournful news.


I see,

Therula murmured.

Thank you, sister.

Without thinking, she resumed her pacing. So Pikarus had to comfort grieving relatives? That would put him in an even worse mood. Then Therula shook her head, chiding herself for being selfish. Pikarus had to do his duty. He had things to worry about besides her.

Cliodora was at the door, half the time watching Therula pace and half the time peeking out. At last she gave a delighted squeak.


He's coming!

Therula froze again. As before, she had to force herself to relax. Cliodora seemed to have forgotten her troubles, for she was bouncing on her toes again.


Can I hide in your room and listen?

Cliodora teased.


No!

Therula had to make herself laugh.

Go on, silly. There won't be much to hear.


Oh, really?

Cliodora giggled.


Just go!

Therula said. She opened the door to push the girl out, and Pikarus was there.

Time seemed to stop as Therula looked into his face. So did her breathing, her heartbeat. Somehow she had forgotten how blue his eyes were. Pikarus looked tired, but his soldier's reserve softened into gentleness at the sight of her. Therula trembled. She nearly turned and ran. Pikarus stepped back, allowing Cliodora to leave, before he entered the room and closed the door.


You wanted to see me?

His voice held a special meaning for her alone.

Therula she stepped forward and hugged him fiercely. She wanted to kiss him, but she couldn't bring herself to try. It was such a relief to feel Pikarus's strong arms around her. Familiar scents of dust and horses clung to his surcoat. If only this sense of peace could last.

When she didn't speak, Pikarus asked,

Has something happened?

Therula shook her head.

No, but it could.

Reluctantly, she stood away. Therula led Pikarus away from the door, in case Cliodora had decided to eavesdrop after all.


While you were gone, I...

she faltered.

That is, Oskar...

Pikarus watched quietly. His military stiffness was back, watching for nuances as Therula floundered.


I'm sorry. I'm babbling.

Therula stopped talking. She felt like an idiot instead of a princess. Taking a deep breath, she tried again.


A few days after the coronation, Oskar sent for me. He knew about us. It's hard keeping secrets, I suppose. He said... He thinks...

She swallowed, forcing the odious words out.

Oskar thinks you only love me for my position. I said he was wrong, that I didn't believe it, but he...

Therula spoke in a rush now, but when she looked at Pikarus he was all soldier, as silent as the settee which stood between them.

Miserable, unable to face him, she went on,

Oskar wanted to test your love. He offered a wager. He said you wouldn't be faithful to me on your journey. He said...


He would have lost that bet,

Pikarus cut in, calm and sure.


Of course, I know that,

Therula said desperately.

I never doubted you, not for a moment. But he insisted on it.

Now came the moment she had been dreading. Pikarus's jaw tightened as he realized she had taken Oskar's wager. His fingers, on the back of the settee, grew white.


I never should have listened to him.

Therula was babbling again.

You're not a race horse! But he said... He promised he wouldn't interfere with us. I thought, when you won... If you were true to me... It seemed worth it, to get his blessing. I...

The torrent of words slowed at last. Therula faltered,

I'm so sorry.

She couldn't bear to look at Pikarus any longer, to see the hurt and disappointment in his eyes. Therula turned away, biting her lip to keep back tears. Her fingers were knotted in the air before her, and she couldn't make them let go.

After much too long, Pikarus spoke.


I'm glad I heard this from you,

he said, too quietly.

You are right, I don't appreciate being gambled on. It was a cruel demand that Oskar made of you. But...

Therula dared to look around, saw his fingers relax their grip on the settee.

You did win. If your brother honors his bargain, perhaps it will bring us peace in the end.

At once, Therula found she could breathe again, though her chest still ached.


Now I must ask you about something else,

Pikarus went on.

Please try to think clearly.

Therula nodded, swallowing against her tension. What could Pikarus mean? Did he want to know about Unferth's death? Or where Tarther was? Or Oskar's leadership?


I've noticed the new style in hats since we returned,

Pikarus said.

The irrelevance surprised her into laughter.

I'm sorry,

Therula apologized. She was well aware her mirth was tinged with hysteria.

Yes, the Silletsian representative wore a hat like that at Oskar's coronation. They've been all the style since.


Sillets?

Pikarus asked.

Therula nodded. She didn't wonder at his frown.


An ambassador attended the coronation, talking about increased trade with us. Oskar was quite taken with the idea. Or perhaps, simply taken in.

Therula didn't try to hide her irritation. She wondered if she should tell Pikarus what she suspected. No, her suspicions would only add to the tension between them.

No one seems to see the paradox, that they've invaded our country and we still wear their styles. Oskar hardly ever takes his off.


Oskar?

Pikarus repeated, more quietly still.

Now it was Therula's turn to ask,

Is something wrong?

She winced at the awkward question, but Pikarus didn't seem to notice. He stood silently, hands clasped behind him and eyes nearly closed. Finally he said,

I must speak to Brastigan. Do you know where he is?


No,

Therula said.

Cliodora is probably out looking for him, but...


I will search for him, too. If Cliodora finds him first, you must send him to me.

Pikarus went to the door, lecturing Therula like captain to soldier. At least he wasn't looking at her the way he had before.

BOOK: Too Many Princes
11.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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